


Teach Me, Touch Me

by hostilovi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Body Horror, Bonding, Gen, Horror, Implied Relationships, Minor Violence, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:43:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilovi/pseuds/hostilovi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving meant a new beginning; new people, new places, a new school.</p>
<p>The new people were most important of all. He was determined that no one else would ever know his secret.</p>
<p>Kuroko Tetsuya could see ghosts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me, Touch Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiiyoshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiyoshi/gifts).



_“We’re moving.”_

That sentence had come with a heavy sense of relief, for Kuroko. He stared out at the passing scenery through the car window, crammed in the backseat with much of his family’s belongings.

Moving meant a new beginning; new people, new places, a new school.

The new people were most important of all. He was determined that no one else would ever know his secret.

Kuroko Tetsuya could see ghosts.

As far as supernatural gifts went, seeing ghosts was definitely the short end of the stick. What was the practical application of watching the dead torment the living? Or watching them mope about the fact they were dead?

Worse were the cases when they didn’t know they were dead.

That wasn’t even taking into consideration the nightmares. The only miraculous part of his ‘gift’ was the fact that he could sleep at all after seeing what he had seen.

It wasn’t like he went around telling people he could see ghosts. He had some sense of self-preservation after all. But having grown up with him, before he built up the appropriate walls, the people of his hometown could tell there was something different about him. Something off. So the announcement of the family’s move to the country had come with the promise of a new life.

He was ready.

“What do you think, Tetsuya?” his mother asked as they pulled to a stop in front the house. It was old, rambling and spread across the grounds like a sleeping beast. It was his first time seeing it other than in pictures and he loved it at once.

“It’s nice,” he said.

“Nice, he says,” his father chuckled. “This is practically a historic building, my boy.”

“Historic?” The idea made him nervous. Historic sites were notorious for being beacons for paranormal activity.

“Your father is joking,” his mother punched his arm lightly. “It’s just an old house.” Kuroko bobbed his head and got out of the car, fighting back the urge to groan as he stretched his legs from the long trip.

“And who’s the one who insisted on having the ‘just an old house’?”

Kuroko tuned out his parents as they bantered back and forth easily, throwing his backpack over his shoulders and grabbing one of the many boxes that had been thrown in the backseat with him. The movers would be there later today.

They all trooped inside, kicking off their shoes at the entrance.

“This’ll be your room, Tetsuya,” his mother said, pointing out the one. Kuroko nodded and hauled his things into it, peering around at it. It was spacious enough for all his things and then some. He liked the old style of the house. He dropped his backpack off to the side of the room and sat down with a sigh, staring at the wall.

He had high hopes for this new place. All he had to do was act normal.

Surely that wouldn’t be so hard.

He glanced up at the ceiling and that’s when he saw it.

A ghost.

It was sitting cross-legged at the ceiling, watching him with interest.

Kuroko’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to his feet, being careful to keep the ghost within the line of his vision as he did so.

“You can see me?” it asked in surprise.

“Stay back,” Kuroko warned, hating how his voice shook.

“Don’t be afraid,” the ghost said, raising placating hands. “My name is—”

Kuroko practically ran from the room in search of his parents. Where there was one ghost, there was bound to be others. He found them in the courtyard, admiring the garden and small pond.

“We can’t stay here,” Kuroko blurted out without thinking.

They both turned to look at him, surprise clear on their faces.

“Is something wrong, Kuroko? You’re so pale.”

“See a ghost?” his father joked with a grin. Kuroko glared at him.

“There’s…something wrong with the house.”

“Kuroko, we had the inspectors come out. The house is perfectly safe.”

“You don’t understand, there’s—” he cut himself off, because  _the house is haunted_  wouldn’t be a good enough explanation for them. Indeed, his father’s face darkened at his words.

“Look, Tetsuya. I understand this move must be hard for you, but we were all ready for a fresh start. You most of all, am I right? I think it’s time you left your childish fantasies behind.”

“Dear,” his mother said, mildly chastising, touching his arm. But her smile was strained when she turned it on Kuroko. “We just want to see you succeed, Tetsuya. We want things to be different for you.”

_You don’t understand._ He bit his lip and nodded, fleeing before they could say anything else. He went and sat on the porch, too nervous to go back to his empty room where he had seen the ghost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It reappeared that evening, after the movers had left and he was getting ready for bed.

“Hello again,” it said.

“Get out of my room,” Kuroko hissed, grabbing the nearest object—his pillow—and brandishing it at the ghost.

“Technically it’s my room,” it said with a smile. “I tried telling you before, but my name’s Kiyoshi Teppei.”

Since it was keeping its distance, Kuroko took a closer look at the ghost. It took the form of a young man, tall and broad. Nothing about it seemed strange other than its partly see-through body. Translucent brown eyes stared right back at him, expectant.

“I’m not a poltergeist,” it supplied helpfully.

“I can see that, thank you.” Giving it the benefit of the doubt, Kuroko set the pillow down; not that it would have helped him much in the first place. “What are you, then?”

“Just a ghost.”

“There’s no such thing as  _just_  a ghost. You’re all monsters, one way or another.”

The ghost shook its head, still smiling. “Consider me the exception.”

Kuroko narrowed his eyes, unwilling to trust the creature but too tired to argue about it right now.

“I’m going to bed,” he announced. “Leave.”

“It must have been a long day for you,” it said, sounding almost sympathetic.

“ _Leave,”_ he said again. The ghost bowed its head politely and phased away through a wall.

His sleep was restless that night; he woke up every few hours in a panic, thinking that more ghosts would appear out of nowhere to attack him and his family. Or that the ghost called Kiyoshi Teppei was less of an exception that it had promised.

“It’s always hard to sleep in a new place,” his mother commiserated when she saw the prominent shadows under his eyes the next morning, fondly ruffling his hair, making it stick up even more than usual.

When he returned to his room to change from his pajamas, Kiyoshi was waiting, looking around with a vague kind of smile that brightened upon seeing Kuroko.

“Good morning, Tetsuya,” it said cheerfully.

“My name,” he bit out, “is Kuroko. And I told you to leave.”

“This is my house. My room. Technically you’re the interloper here.”

“You’re  _dead._  Nothing here belongs to you anymore. You need to pass on.”

Its expression fell. “I’ve tried. But I think there’s something here that I’m meant to do still, because my Door won’t appear, no matter what I do.”

“Well, try harder.” Kuroko stepped over to the pile of boxes he had yet to unpack and began digging for clothes.

“I’ve never met a human who could see ghosts,” Kiyoshi said as they though were having a cordial conversation, drifting over to his side. “Ah, the one below that is labelled ‘clothes’, Kuroko.”

Kuroko cast the ghost a flat look. “I don’t need your help.”

Kiyoshi only smiled, hurriedly backing off when Kuroko heaved the box in his direction. One thing he had learned about ghosts was that they didn’t like objects going through their bodies unless it was on their terms.

“Go haunt a different house,” he said tiredly.

“I prefer the term co-habitating.”

“I don’t care what you prefer. Just leave me alone.” He pulled off his sleep shirt and grabbed a clean one at random. Then he glanced over at Kiyoshi, who was still watching him intently. “Do you mind?”

“No,” it said, tilting its head. It waited a few beats, then theatrically turned its back to him. Kuroko hurriedly changed into his jeans, feeling oddly embarrassed and shaken by this entire experience. “You’re very special, Kuroko, to be able to see me.”

“Yeah, I feel real special,” he muttered, shoving his wallet and phone into his pockets and heading out of the room. He could feel Kiyoshi drifting along behind him as he walked to the front door.

“Going somewhere, Tetsuya?” his father asked curiously.

“Just for a walk.”

“Well, don’t go too far. We’re going to go into town this afternoon, get the lay of the land.”

“I won’t,” he promised, pulling on his shoes. He shut the door on Kiyoshi, but the ghost merely phased through it and followed after him.

“I can show you around,” it said eagerly. “There’s a lot of great sights around here.”

“No thank you.”

“More of an exploratory guy? I understand. That can be fun.”

“No offense,” Kuroko whirled on him, glancing past him to make sure his parents weren’t watching from the windows. “But I’d like to be alone.”

“Got it.” It made a zipping gesture at its mouth. “I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Kuroko lifted a hand, pointing back to the house. “Go away.”

Its smile faded fractionally. “I just don’t want you getting lost. It’s easy to get turned around out here.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Kiyoshi nodded and didn’t follow when Kuroko started walking again.

He had wanted things to be different, living here. Hot tears rose to his eyes and he dashed them away impatiently. He had so wanted things to be different. But it seemed that no matter where he went, the ghosts would be there.

All he had to do was appear normal in front of other humans. He hoped he could make that happen.

Kuroko walked aimlessly down the path for a while until he spotted a park in the distance, complete with swings, a playset, and a basketball court. There was a family there, with small children and their laughter sent a pang of loneliness through him. He sat on the swings until he remembered his father’s promise about heading into town.

With a sigh, he headed back, kicking along a rock that was in his path. As he got closer to the house, he saw Kiyoshi waiting, right where he had left the ghost. It smiled and waved to him as he approached.

“Have a nice walk?” it asked.

Kuroko ignored it, walking past it and into the house.

“Ah, Tetsuya, perfect timing. Ready to go?”

“I am.”

They all piled into the car. Kuroko looked back, watching Kiyoshi watch them leave.

“Something wrong, Tetsuya?”

“No.” He turned back around. “It’s nothing.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He started school a few days later.

“You look fine,” his mother assured him as he adjusted his collar yet again. She handed him his lunch and kissed his forehead despite his half-hearted attempt to get away. “You’ll do great, Tetsuya.”

His father dropped him off at the school gates on his way to work. Kuroko was relieved to see some other students being dropped off too; he would have hated to stand out like that. He wanted to be perfectly normal.

Kuroko took a deep breath and walked forward.

 A new day. A new place.

Everything would be fine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kuroko collapsed face-first on his bed, letting his bag fall to the floor.

“That bad, was it?” Kiyoshi’s voice said sympathetically.

Kuroko didn’t respond. It hadn’t been terrible, exactly. Once the novelty of a new student had worn off—and it wore off quickly—the other students had drifted back to their established friend groups, leaving him on his own. No one had been mean, but neither had anyone taken particular notice of him.

Being ignored came with a pain of its own.

“Tetsuya?” his mother knocked softly on the door. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine,” he called out, sitting up.

“Well, okay. Dinner’s in a few.”

“Thank you.”

Kuroko glanced over at Kiyoshi, who was waiting expectantly for an answer.

“It was fine,” he said shortly, because even if it was a dead thing, at least it was willing to hold a conversation with him. “I’m just tired.”

“They can tell, can’t they? They can always tell when something’s different about a person.”

“What would you know about it?” Kuroko shot back. Kiyoshi shrugged.

“Consider it an educated guess.”

Kuroko left to go eat dinner with his family.

When he got back, Kiyoshi was still there, crouched down by his bag.

“What are you doing?” Kuroko asked, suspicious of how intent the ghost was staring at it.

“Well, you see,” it stood, “I was trying to move your bag for you, so you wouldn’t trip over it, but I’m not much good with interacting with objects. It did move a few inches,” it added, proudly.

Kuroko scrubbed a hand through his hair.  _Don’t touch my stuff,_  he wanted to say, but it seemed that Kiyoshi really was as harmless as it claimed, if it couldn’t move things more than a few inches at a time. He picked up his bag and moved to his desk to do his homework, very aware of Kiyoshi hovering behind him.

“I’m trying to work,” he pointed out when the chill at his back remained. “Don’t you have something better to do than distract me?”

“I just wanted to see if the curriculum has changed any.”

“You haven’t been dead that long, Kiyoshi,” Kuroko pointed out. The ghost let out a small happy noise. “What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve used my name!”

Kuroko spun around in his chair. Kiyoshi was grinning like he’d won a prize.

“Say it again, it sounds nice when you say it.”

Kuroko pulled a face, turning back around quickly so he couldn’t see how his face went red. “Don’t be weird. Like I said, I’m trying to work. Unless you’re going to help—”

“I’ll help!” Kiyoshi said eagerly, moving closer until his body was cut in half by the desk, the lamp sticking out through his chest.

“That’s gross, move,” Kuroko said with a frown. Kiyoshi looked down at himself, shrugged, and shifted back out of the desk.

He did actually turn out to be helpful, especially when Kuroko got to history. Kuroko could almost relax with his cool barely-there presence hovering nearby.

“You can’t stay here while I sleep,” Kuroko told him as he got ready for bed. Kiyoshi tipped his head curiously.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so,” he shot back, rapidly getting annoyed with the ghost again.

“But I can be here otherwise?”

“I—I don’t know. I guess so.” Kuroko slid under the covers, before realizing he had left the lights on.

“Let me get that for you,” Kiyoshi said, drifting to the light switch. It took him a few moments, but he managed to flick the switch.

“Goodnight, Kuroko.”

Kuroko turned his back to the glowing form and closed his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 His days passed, much the same as another. No one paid him much attention at school, and his parents were too busy adjusting to a new place and new jobs to pay him much mind either. The only true companion he had was the mysterious Kiyoshi Teppei.

Then at school, the sports clubs started handing out fliers.

“I could teach you.”

Kuroko nearly jumped up from his chair at the sound of Kiyoshi’s voice. He smiled apologetically at him.

“Basketball,” he gestured at the flier Kuroko had been mindlessly gazing at for the past few minutes. “I used to play. I could show you a thing or two for tryouts.”

“Who said I’m trying out?”

“You’ve been staring at that flier for the past five minutes. Something tells me you have more than a passing interest.”

Kuroko frowned, trying to see what the catch was in the deal. “But you can’t even touch the basketball,” he said after a few moments passed, saying it carefully. The last thing he wanted was an angry ghost on his hands.

“I can still coach from the sidelines.” If he was bothered by what he said, he gave no sign of it. “What do you say, Kuroko? Want to give it a shot?”

He loved basketball. But he didn’t have much stamina or skill yet. If he was being honest, he needed all the help he could possibly get.

“All right,” he agreed cautiously. Kiyoshi grinned, bouncing on his toes.

“When do we start?”

“Tomorrow,” Kuroko decided. He would need to buy a basketball to practice with, which meant a trip to town. “We can start tomorrow.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kiyoshi was not nearly as frustrating a teacher as Kuroko thought he might turn out to be. He pointed out mistakes firmly but not harshly. He gave pointers in the form of gentle suggestions, occasionally demonstrating the change in form himself.

For the most part, he taught Kuroko drills to run through. Drill after drill after drill.

“It’s the basics you need to get down, not fancy moves,” he said, their very first day working together. “If you can get the basics mastered, the rest will come with time.”

He also emphasized the need to not to push himself too far past his limits.

“There’s no point in pushing yourself so hard that you get injured.”

It made Kuroko wonder if he had done the very same thing once himself, but he didn’t want to ask. He focused on bettering himself.

The rest could wait.

“You’re doing well,” Kiyoshi promised as they walked back home together one night, the light fading quickly.

“Hopefully well enough for the team.”

“Even if you don’t make it, there’s always streetball. And besides, you work hard. Sometimes that’s even better than having talent.”

Kuroko glanced at him, wondering if he was being teased. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” 

Kuroko went to bed with a lighter heart that night, already looking forward to the next day, when he could come home from school and play more basketball with Kiyoshi.

It had become the highlight of his days without him realizing it—spending time with Kiyoshi, playing basketball.

He never thought that he would willingly spend time with a ghost.

Then again, he never met a ghost quite like Kiyoshi.

Once in a while, he could get Kiyoshi to talk about his team, about his position and the games they played, but it wasn’t often. Kiyoshi seemed more focused on teaching Kuroko than imparting knowledge from his past. His unrelenting focus on living—well,  _existing_  in the present might have been what kept him from turning bad.

“What is it you like about history so much, anyway?” Kuroko asked with a sigh as Kiyoshi pointed out another mistake on his history homework.

“If you don’t learn from the past, how can you improve the future?” he countered with a smile.

“Yet you barely talk about your own past.”

His smile faded slightly.

“There’s nothing to learn from that, Kuroko.”

Kuroko corrected his work, watching him from the corner of his vision. “Seems hypocritical of you.”

Why was he pushing him? It wasn’t a smart move, by any means. But he wanted to know him. Know about him. He seemed to know everything there was to know about Kuroko, and it should be a two-way street.

Kiyoshi sighed.

“My favorite color was pink and red, though not together. I was a morning person. My favorite music genre was metal.” He looked at the clock. “And you should be getting to bed. That’s enough of today’s history lesson on me.”

Kuroko couldn’t help feeling cheated out of some real information, but he wasn’t even sure what he would ask. _Were you ever in love? Did you have a lot of friends?_

“Metal,” he said as he slid under the covers, “doesn’t seem like you at all.”

“That’s what everyone used to say. Goodnight, Kuroko.”

“Where do you go, at night?” Kuroko blurted out.

Kiyoshi looked back at him, a thin line between his brows. He was the only source of light in the dark room, faintly glowing.

“I look at the stars.”

“What about when it rains?”

“Then I pretend I can still see them.”

Kuroko turned over, on the off chance Kiyoshi could see in the dark and pick out his flushed cheeks.

“You don’t have to go. If you don’t want to. I don’t mind if you stay.”

“Even if I watch you in your sleep?” Kiyoshi asked, tone lightly teasing.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

He laughed.

“Sweet dreams, Kuroko.”

Kuroko didn’t know if he really stayed, but Kiyoshi was there when he woke up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The week of tryouts came quickly.

After some basic ball-handling drills, they broke out into group of three to run scrimmages while the coach and captain looked on. Kuroko was so nervous he didn’t even catch the names of the other boys he was playing with, but he made sure to remember the color of the practice jerseys they were given to throw over their shirts. Red.

“You’ve got 15 minutes, highest score wins. Then we have the high scores go against each other, and vice versa with the lower scores. Any questions?”

_Is it okay if I go to the bathroom to throw up first?_

But as nervous as he was, he was also burning to get out on that court.

The whistle blew and the game began.

Kuroko still wasn’t confident in his shooting abilities, despite Kiyoshi’s patient teachings, so he focused on getting the ball to his teammates. He seemed to pass beneath the notice of the opposing team—and his teammates, sometimes. It made it easier to steal and intercept the ball, but he had to shout to get his teammates attention.

Kuroko saw the coach reach for his whistle. The ball was in his hands.

He shot.

 And then it was over.

Even though he had made that last shot, his team still lost by a small margin. While they were waiting for their next matchup, one of his teammates nudged him with his elbow, offering up a smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name the first time.”

“Kuroko,” he replied.

“Kuroko. You had some good moves out there.”

“We still lost the scrimmage,” Kuroko couldn’t help pointing out.

“Yeah, but we worked well together, I think. And that’s what matters most, right? My name is Ogiwara,” the other boy said with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, smiling back cautiously.

“You’re the new kid, right? The one that moved here at the beginning of the year?”

“Not so new, anymore.”

“Well, no, I guess not.” Ogiwara laughed a little, but he didn’t seem to be laughing at Kuroko, so Kuroko relaxed. “Did play basketball at your old school?”

“No.”

“Really? You move like you’ve been playing for a good while.” Ogiwara eyed him, as if sizing him up again.

“I decided to try something new,” Kuroko explained. “It’s just beginner’s luck.”

“More like talent, I’d say.” He was still smiling. It was a kind smile. Kuroko looked away.

“You…have some pretty good moves yourself,” he said, trying to get the attention off of himself. Ogiwara shook his head, but then the whistle blew, signifying the start of the next game.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 The tryouts went on for several days. Kuroko never did get paired with Ogiwara again, but the other boy always seemed to find him before and after the matches so they could chat. Kuroko hesitantly began thinking of him in terms of a friend, hoping he felt the same way.

Kuroko was too tired to practice with Kiyoshi by the time he made it home, but they still talked basketball while Kuroko did his homework and got ready for bed.

Kiyoshi, too, felt like a friend.

Soon enough, though, the tryouts were over.

The rest of the prospective players were milling about, waiting for the coach to post the list of those who had made the team.

“Ogiwara.” Kuroko touched him arm lightly and he jumped, spinning around to face him.

“You startled me, jeez!” He smiled anyway. “This is pretty nerve-wracking, huh.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Kuroko said. “You did a good job.”

“So did you.”

Kuroko didn’t know about that, but there wasn’t time to say anything more, because the coach was approaching with a sheet of paper. He paused when he saw all the students waiting for him.

“I want you to know that every one of you did a good job,” he said after clearing his throat. “So you should all be proud of yourselves, no matter what.”

He posted the paper and left, leaving them to it. There was a lot of pushing and shoving involved, but Kuroko managed to make his way to the front.

There was his name.

Posted right above Ogiwara’s. They had both made second string.

Kuroko slid back out of the crowd back to where Ogiwara was waiting anxiously for him. Kuroko’s face must have said it all, because he grinned right back.

“We made it?”

“We made it,” Kuroko confirmed.

Ogiwara laughed and they high-fived and for a moment, everything was perfect.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I made the team,” Kuroko said when he got in the door. His parents both smiled, congratulated him.

And moved on.

But it was fine. Because the person he really needed to tell wasn’t in the room. Kuroko hurried to his room with the promise to be back to eat dinner in just a few minutes. Kiyoshi was waiting there, floating near the ceiling.

He came back down the ground with Kuroko entered.

“I made it,” Kuroko said breathlessly, smiling wider than he thought possible. “I made the team.”

Kiyoshi let out a loud cheer that Kuroko nearly hushed him for, but he couldn’t stop smiling, even when Kiyoshi phased through him in an attempt to wrap him up in a hug.

“I knew you could do it,” he praised once he re-formed. “I knew it!”

“I had a good teacher,” Kuroko said, almost shy. Kiyoshi shook his head.

“This was all you, Kuroko.”

 “Without you coaching me, I don’t think I would have made it.”

“The skills were all there. You just needed a little polishing.” Kiyoshi grinned. “You’re by far my best student.”

“And how many students have you had?” Kuroko asked dryly.

“Just the one. But you’ll always be my favorite.”

Kuroko breezed through his homework after dinner, still buzzing with energy from his great victory. Kiyoshi, though, seemed more and more subdued as time went on.

Kuroko wondered how much of his personality was the same as when he had been alive.

The thought niggled at him as he readied his things for the next day, seated on his bed.

 “You’re awfully quiet, Kuroko.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“This is a different kind of quiet.” Kiyoshi came over and sat across from him on the bed, paying no mind to the rumpled blankets that disrupted his unstable form. “Is there something you wanted to ask me?”

It was a pointed question. But Kuroko couldn’t  _not_ ask.

“What happened to you?” Kuroko asked quietly, shoving his hands under his thighs to keep from picking at his nails.

“How did I die, you mean?”

Kuroko winced at how callous the words sounded.

“You don’t have to tell me. I was just—curious.”

“I don’t mind telling.” He laid his hands on his knees, looking solemn for once, and quite distant. “Though truthfully, there isn’t much to tell. I went under for surgery and never came back out.”

“Surgery?” Kiyoshi looked to be about his age, maybe a little older. He couldn’t imagine what kind of surgery he had been having.

“Knee surgery,” he clarified. “I had an injury playing basketball.”

“I’m sorry,” Kuroko said after a few moments, not having anything else to say. Kiyoshi merely shrugged.

“There was no pain. As far as dying goes, I don’t think I got the bad end of the deal.” He looked away from Kuroko, smiling at nothing. “I do wish it had been as easy for my grandparents as it was for me.”

“They were the ones selling the house,” Kuroko realized, remembering his mother mentioning the sellers being an elderly couple. Kiyoshi nodded, still not looking at him.

“They couldn’t see me, but I think they could… _feel_  me, lingering. I suppose it wasn’t a comfort to know I was there, because,” he gestured to the room at large, “they left. To escape me.”

“You don’t know—”

“I heard them say it. Those exact words. ‘To escape Teppei and lay him properly to rest’.”

“I’m sorry,” Kuroko said again.

“It’s in the past. Besides, if they hadn’t left, I would never have met you.”

Kuroko found himself speechless, not for the first time. Unable to stand it, he got up from the bed and left the room. Kiyoshi drifted after him, all the way to the front door.

“Tetsuya, where do you think you’re going? It’s a school night.”

“Just for some fresh air,” he said, forcing a smile. “I won’t go far.”

His mother looked him over dubiously before nodding. “Take a flashlight, okay?”

“I will.” He lifted the one sitting near his shoes to show her and made his escape out into the night air.

They walked in silence for a while, following the now familiar path to the park.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroko said again.

“Kuroko,” Kiyoshi sighed. “It’s really all right.”

“But it’s not. Not really.”

He ducked his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. Kuroko sat on the swings, pushing himself into the air with a few kicks.

“Not really,” Kiyoshi admitted. He reached out and his hand phased through the chain of the swings. “But it’s something I’m coming to terms with. What else can I do?”

_Turn bad._

They were both thinking it.

Any day, Kiyoshi could turn bad, turn into one of the nightmare visions that Kuroko was used to seeing.

Yet Kuroko couldn’t bring himself to be afraid. He trusted Kiyoshi, strange as it was to think about. They hadn’t known each other all that long, but he trusted him.

“We should head back,” Kiyoshi said.

“Yes.”

Kuroko let the swing come to a stop, kicking up woodchips as he stood.

“Kuroko, I don’t want this to change things between us. You knowing the truth.”

How could it not? What must he think, every time he watched Kuroko play basketball? What must he long for?

“I don’t want you to pity me,” he added, softer. “I had a good life, a good family, good friends. No one could ask for more.”

But that life had been cut short. His family, his friends, had been taken cruelly away from him. How did he remain so kind? Kuroko blinked away the tears that blurred his vision and started walking home, the beam from the flashlight bobbing with every step.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“I’m thinking.”

“About?”

_You. Always, you._

“Nothing, Kiyoshi. It’s nothing.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kuroko hadn’t been thinking much of his parents, too occupied with basketball, work from school, and spending time with Kiyoshi.

Even with a spot on the team, the only person who paid him much attention—other than the coach and captain, pointing out all the things he was doing wrong—was Ogiwara still. He tried not to let it bother him. Maybe he just lacked presence.

It was his day off and he was on his way to the park when he heard them talking.

“This is the best his grades have ever been,” he heard his father say. Kuroko paused, eavesdropping even though he knew he shouldn’t. Kiyoshi stopped beside him, listening in too.

“I know that, dear, but I’m just worried. He never talks about friends from school.”

“He’s just very independent.”

“But doesn’t he seem…lonely?”

Kuroko swallowed hard, taking care to make a lot of noise with his next few steps. His parents smiled at him, almost guiltily, as he paused in the living room.

“I’m going to the park.”

He left with their words of not to stay out too long following after him. The strap of his bag digging into his shoulder was grounding as he walked with Kiyoshi.

“Are you?” Kiyoshi asked.

“Am I?”

“Lonely,” he clarified.

Kuroko thought it over even though the answer was right there for him.  _How can I be lonely when I have you?_

“Not particularly,” he finally settled on saying. He had Kiyoshi. And he had Ogiwara. So what if most other people seemed to ignore him? He could use that to his advantage.

He couldn’t talk about Kiyoshi to his parents, but perhaps it would be best to drop Ogiwara’s name in conversation a few times. He didn’t want them to worry about him.

“I know I may not be the best company—”

“Your company is fine by me.” Kuroko interrupted him before he could get any farther. Kiyoshi blinked in surprise and smiled, his shoulder phasing through Kuroko’s as he stepped too close to him.

The not-quite contact was nice.

They played basketball until Kuroko got too tired, then rested on the swings, watching the younger kids run wild on the play structure.

“It never seems to slow down,” Kiyoshi commented.

“Hm?”

“The world.” He lifted one of his hands, peering through it. “Even though I’ve died, everything just keeps on pushing forward.”

Kuroko considered him from the corner of his vision. “Does it bother you?”

“I’m not sure.” Kiyoshi dropped his hand. “Maybe. Maybe not. Shouldn’t we be getting home?”

Kuroko let the issue slide, getting to his feet and following the path back home. 

Kuroko hummed under his breath as he walked, only half-listening to Kiyoshi as he talked.

Then he fell silent.

Kuroko glanced his way and found a strange expression on his face.

“Are you okay?”

“We have to go home,” he said hurriedly.

“We  _are_  going home,” Kuroko couldn’t help pointing out.

“Then walk faster.”

“Kiyoshi, what—”

“There’s a ghost following us. It must have picked up on your ability.”

“They can do that?” Kuroko turned his head to look around.

“Don’t look,” Kiyoshi warned, but it was too late. Kuroko locked eyes with the ghost that was trailing maybe a dozen feet behind them.

His mouth went dry.

It was a huge, hulking thing, barely human. Kuroko didn’t know how he hadn’t felt it there earlier. Its several sets of arms dragged on the ground as it walked, and when Kuroko looked at it, it leered, grinning with its too many, too wide mouths, a dark saliva dripping from all of them.

It had one great big, lidless eye, surrounded in a circle by smaller ones, all the purest black.

“Run,” Kiyoshi hissed. Kuroko didn’t need more prompting than that. He took off at a dead sprint but was quickly forced by the bumpy terrain and his own lack of stamina to slow his pace considerably.

The ghost re-appeared in front of them. Kuroko yelped, skidding to a halt. Kiyoshi immediately took up a stance in front of Kuroko.

“Don’t you dare come closer,” he snarled out.

The other ghost casually lifted an arm, slicing through Kiyoshi’s body.

Kiyoshi disappeared.

In the time it took for him to re-form, the ghost had converged on Kuroko, shoving him down to the ground and holding him there.

“Get off,” Kuroko snapped at it. It spoke to him, but all that came out was a garbled roar Kuroko couldn’t make sense of as he vainly struggled to get away from its grasp.

Kuroko made a desperate grab for his fallen bag, but it was too far away.

“Kiyoshi,” he called out. “Kiyoshi, help!”

But what could either of them do? Kiyoshi finally re-formed and began making attempts to move the ghost off of Kuroko, to no avail.

“My bag, Kiyoshi!” Kuroko choked out as its hands went for his throat.

“I—I can’t touch it!”

“Kiyoshi, you have to hurry!”

Kuroko kept straining to reach it, and finally Kiyoshi must have been able to push it his way, because Kuroko felt the leather strap in his fingers. With a sob, he dragged it closer it, managing to fend off the ghost’s hands long enough to grab the bag of salt he always carried.

He turned and flung it into the ghost’s face.

It screamed once, angry, and was gone.

Coughing and crying, Kuroko leaned his head on his knees, barely noticing the pain of his scraped up hands and legs.

“Kuroko, oh,  _Kuroko._ ”

“I’m okay,” he managed to say, hardly believing it. “I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help, I couldn’t…” Kiyoshi trailed off. Kuroko wiped his eyes and looked up. There was guilt on his face and the remnants of fear. “Smart of you to carry salt,” he added with a weak smile.

“Old habits.” Kuroko got to his feet, wincing. “Let’s…let’s just go home.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Kuroko almost wiped his hands on his pants before remembering seeing blood. Grimacing, he lifted his bag over his shoulder and began walking again.

“I’ll be fine, Kiyoshi. Nothing a little antiseptic won’t fix.”

His mother fussed over him and thankfully accepted his excuse of tripping to explain away the state of his hands. Kiyoshi was quiet all the while, hovering just within Kuroko’s line of vision.

They didn’t talk about it, ever again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weeks passed and their first official game approached. It was unlikely, even as second string, that Kuroko would see much game time, but he was still abuzz with excitement. On his day off, Kuroko spent the day with Kiyoshi down at the park, running through drills and practicing shots.

Using rocks they found from the road, they created opponents on the court and started running simulations to see how Kuroko would get ideally get around them.

The only problem was, passing was Kuroko’s strong point.

Kuroko fleetingly wished he had thought to call Ogiwara to practice with, but then Kiyoshi would have been left out, since Ogiwara couldn’t see him.

“Pick up the pace, Kuroko, they’re not going to stand still during a game!”

“I know that!”

Kuroko moved faster nevertheless, sweat dripping down his back.

“Kuroko, pass!”

Kuroko passed the ball without thinking, turning in one smooth motion so he was facing Kiyoshi.

The ball phased through his hands and body, rolling off into the bushes.

They both stared at each other for several moments.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroko said hurriedly. “I just—”

_Forgot._ He had forgotten, momentarily, what Kiyoshi was. A ghost.

Dead.

Something pained crossed Kiyoshi’s face, but he smoothed it away so quickly that Kuroko might have imagined it. He smiled but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “It’s okay. I…forgot too, there. For a moment.”

Kuroko went after the basketball while Kiyoshi drifted around the court, coming to a stop beneath the hoop.

“Maybe we should just go home,” Kuroko said, holding the ball between his hands. He had lost all of his energy. Kiyoshi didn’t say anything, so Kuroko slid the ball back into his bag. Only when Kuroko realized he wasn’t following him did he turn back.

“Kiyoshi? Are you coming?” he asked, cautious.

“I’ll meet you back there,” he said before vanishing.

But when Kuroko completed the walk home, alone, Kiyoshi was nowhere to be found.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A loud thump woke him in the night. Kuroko sat up, rubbing at his eyes and squinting. Kiyoshi’s form was just visible, looking more solid than usual but dimmer.

“Kiyoshi? What are you doing?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep.

He spun.

“I ran into something. Sorry for waking you.”

“Ran into—but…”

“It was an accident. Sometimes it happens. Sometimes, I’m more solid.” Kiyoshi drifted over, smiling tightly at him. “Just go back to sleep. I’ll try not to touch anything else.”

Kuroko was too tired to argue. He flipped over and settled back down to sleep.

In the morning, things were tense. Instead of greeting him like he usually would, Kiyoshi was silent, contemplative, standing near the stack of books he had knocked over, presumably, last night.

“Is…everything okay?” Kuroko ventured to ask.

Kiyoshi shrugged. “I’m fine. Just—tired.”

“I didn’t know ghosts could get tired.”

“Well, you don’t know much about ghosts, do you?” Kiyoshi said, a touch sharp. He winced nearly as soon as the words left his mouth, turning his back to Kuroko. “Sorry, I’m just—sorry.”

“I’ll see you after school,” Kuroko said when it seemed Kiyoshi would say no more. Kiyoshi nodded.

Kuroko left with a sick twisting in his gut, telling him something was really, truly wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He went through his day in a daze, grateful for the distraction of basketball practice after school hours. With their game approaching, everyone was equal parts tense and excited.

“Kuroko, do you want to stay after for a while? Shoot a few more hoops with me?”

“Sure.” Kuroko smiled at him and Ogiwara smiled right back. Staying after practice was over was becoming their ritual, together.

“Just let me hit the bathroom first.”

Kuroko followed him back into the school building and waited outside in the hallway for him, looking out the windows at the still-bright sky. Spending more time with Ogiwara meant spending less time with Kiyoshi, but Kuroko didn’t think the ghost would mind. Especially considering they lived together.

Kuroko heard the door open and turned to ask Ogiwara if he was ready, but Ogiwara was already by his side, moving too quickly.

“Kuroko.” Ogiwara grabbed him by the shoulders, too tightly. “It’s me.”

“Ogiwara, what are you—”

He shook his head, grinning. There was something off about him but Kuroko couldn’t put his finger on what, exactly.

“Not Ogiwara. Kiyoshi. It’s me.” He laughed. “Gods, but it’s so  _good_  to be able to touch you at last.”

“K-Kiyoshi?” Kuroko’s mouth was dry, and it took all his strength to not wrench himself away from Kiyoshi’s borrowed hands. “What are you—you can’t be doing this. You’re going to hurt him.”

His expression fell. “I’m being careful. I’m not out to hurt anybody.”

“Get out of him.”

“I thought you’d be happy, Kuroko.” His fingers shifted restlessly but didn’t let go of him.

“Happy? You’re possessing my friend! That’s only a thing that evil spirits can do!”

“I’m not evil,” Kiyoshi said sharply.

“Then prove it to me.” Kuroko couldn’t remember being this afraid before. “Get out of him.”

“I will. But first,” he pulled Kuroko closer, into a tight embrace, his fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “First, I want to touch you.”

Kuroko was frozen. Unable to push him away, unable to return the hug. Kiyoshi still sighed happily before pulling slightly away, holding his face between his hands and smiling—and Kuroko recognized that gentle smile, even on Ogiwara’s face.

“Get out of him,” Kuroko repeated again.

Kiyoshi hushed him, ruffling his hair.

“A few minutes more won’t hurt anything.”

“You don’t  _know_  that,” Kuroko hissed, trying to jerk back out of his grasp, but Kiyoshi’s hands tightened, holding his head in place. “This isn’t right. You know it’s not.”

Something dark crossed Kiyoshi’s borrowed face and he finally let go.

“You might want to catch him,” Kiyoshi said, and then the ghost was sliding out of Ogiwara’s body. Kuroko barely managed to catch Ogiwara before he collapsed bonelessly on the floor, scraping up his knees as they both fell awkwardly.

Kuroko frantically checked for a pulse and sighed in relief when he found it. There was nothing else he could do now except wait for him to wake up.

Kuroko looked up, meaning to Kiyoshi a stern talking to, but the words shriveled in his throat when he saw the ghost.

Kiyoshi had become the slavering, many-mouthed terror of his memories. Teeth sharp, tongues long and forked like a snake’s, the mouths were on nearly every visible patch of skin. Kiyoshi blinked at him with several sets of eyes that were nothing but black, black, black.

Kuroko couldn’t even scream. He carefully stood, making sure Ogiwara’s head didn’t hit the ground too hard.

And then he ran. Up the stairs, because there was nowhere else to run. He heard Kiyoshi call after him, and ran harder.

This couldn’t be happening.

_Please let this be a dream, an awful dream._

He tripped on the stairs, nearly falling, but caught himself at the last moment, propelling himself with a new burst of speed to the door that led to the roof, praying that it wouldn’t be locked, today of all days.

It was open.

Kuroko slammed it shut behind him, making it all the way to the roof’s edge before the monstrous apparition that Kiyoshi had become appeared before him.

“Why did you run, Kuroko?” he asked, too gentle.

“Have you  _seen_ yourself?” Kuroko spat out.

Several of the mouths hissed at him.

“Stay back,” Kuroko warned, voice and legs shaking alike, as he edged backwards. Kiyoshi’s face was still angry, still sad, still  _not his face._  “Stay back or I’ll jump.”

“Kuroko, you wouldn’t,” he pleaded.

“I would.”

His face hardened abruptly. “Maybe you should jump. Then we could be together.”

Kuroko’s stomach sank as his one last advantage was taken away. Fear was tight in his gut, choking him.

“You don’t mean that,” he said hoarsely.

“Don’t I?”

“The Kiyoshi I know would never mean that.”

“The Kiyoshi you knew was a fool,” the creature snarled. “He was barely here. But now,” he spread his arms wide, “I’m more alive than ever before.”

“You’re dead,” Kuroko managed to say.

That gave the creature pause. Then he grinned widely, showing off his teeth.

“As you soon will be.”

Kiyoshi flickered out of sight, only to appear merely a few feet away from him. Kuroko had nowhere else to run to. If he took another step back, he would really fall.

“Kiyoshi,” he begged, tears springing to his eyes as he forced himself to meet that furious black gaze. “Teppei. Please don’t do this.”

If he heard, he gave no indication of it, moving ever closer. He lifted his hands. To push, Kuroko realized vacantly. He did the only thing he could think of.

Kuroko raised his hands, interlacing their fingers. Kiyoshi was just solid enough to make it work.

“Teppei,” he said quietly, tears slipping down his cheeks. “ _Please._ ”

Kiyoshi frowned at him in confusion, fingers shifting against his.

“Kuroko?” he said, voice very small and far away. “Don’t cry, Kuroko. Who made you cry?”

Kuroko bit his lip, watching Kiyoshi’s form grow more unstable. He couldn’t tell if it was working, because he could still touch him.

And then, suddenly, he couldn’t.

Kiyoshi disappeared altogether, for a few moments, before reforming in front of him. It was  _him,_ not the monstrous thing he had so briefly become. His face was shocked when his eyes landed on Kuroko.

“Kuroko, what’s wrong?” he asked. Then his eyes widened. “Kuroko, get away from the edge, it’s dangerous!”

With a cry, Kuroko ran through his newly untouchable form, collapsing on the pavement when his legs gave out and curling in on himself.

 “Kuroko, what—” Kiyoshi cut himself off with a soft exhalation of  _oh._  “Did I—did I turn? I can’t even remember how I got here.”

 Kuroko couldn’t answer him, which must have been answer enough.

“Kuroko,” his hands phased through him and Kuroko cringed back, unable to stop the sobs wracking his body. “Kuroko, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Kuroko couldn’t even speak. He could feel Kiyoshi hovering around him and his presence both made him feel better and want to cry harder than he already was.

“L-Let’s get you home,” Kiyoshi sounded as shaky as Kuroko felt. Kuroko managed a nod, slowly getting his feet, wiping at his eyes haphazardly.

“Ogiwara,” he croaked out. “You possessed him. I have to make sure…”

Kiyoshi closed his eyes for a moment, brown eyes once more, beautifully translucent.

“Let’s go,” he said grimly once he opened them. Kuroko made his stumbling way down the stairs back to where Ogiwara was still laying.

Kuroko shook him gently, mindful of his head. Ogiwara stirred and Kuroko would have started crying if he wasn’t already.

“Kuro…ko? Ugh, what happened?” He rubbed at his head, slowly sitting up. He blinked a few times, staring straight at Kiyoshi before his face morphed into a fearful expression. “Kuroko, we have to get away, oh my god.”

“What’s wrong?” Kuroko sniffed, wiping at his eyes again.

“G-G-Ghost,” Ogiwara hissed. “Right behind you!”

Kuroko’s jaw nearly dropped. “You can see him?” He grabbed Ogiwara when he made to scramble to his feet.

“Kuroko, we’ve  _got to go, right now—”_

“Don’t worry,” Kuroko said with a shaky smile as he lied. “He’s harmless.”

“Mostly,” Kiyoshi added with a smile of his own. “My name’s Kiyoshi Teppei. Sorry about the whole possession thing. You’re not hurt, are you?”

“P-Possession?” Ogiwara looked between Kiyoshi and Kuroko, panicked. “He possessed me? And you’re telling me he’s harmless?”

“It was an accident.” Kuroko glanced over at Kiyoshi, who nodded. “It won’t ever happen again.”

Ogiwara rubbed at his head again, grimacing. “You’re telling me you’re…buddies with a ghost?”

Kuroko hesitated. “Kiyoshi’s a friend, yes.”

“And you can see him too. I’m not going crazy.”

“No more crazy than I am.” Kuroko stood, his tears finally having stopped. He offered a hand up to Ogiwara. For a moment, Ogiwara just looked at his hand. “We should go home. It’s getting late.”

Ogiwara accepted his hand.

“I’ll call my mom. She’ll drop you off,” he said, one hand still holding his head. “You, uh, might want to wash your face, or she’ll ask questions.”

Kuroko left him to make his call, ducking into the nearest bathroom to splash some water on his face. The cold was bracing. When he inspected his reflection he could see Kiyoshi hovering guiltily over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Kuroko shook his head.

“You should go home. I’ll be there soon.”

Kiyoshi dissipated without another word.

The car ride was normal enough, though he caught Ogiwara staring at him a few times. His mom chastised them both for staying after practice so late, even if it wasn’t a school night.

“We lost track of time. Won’t happen again, Ma,” Ogiwara promised.

“Thanks for taking me home,” Kuroko said as he got out of the car.

“Oh, it’s never a problem, Kuroko,” she said with a smile. “You’ve been a good influence on my boy.”

“Ma,” Ogiwara groaned. “Stop it, oh my god.”

Kuroko smiled and waved them off.

Kiyoshi was sitting on the front steps, head buried in his hands.

Kuroko considered the miserable figure he made before sitting next to him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice muffled. “I don’t know what else to say besides I’m sorry.”

“You really scared me, Kiyoshi,” Kuroko said, and he flinched.

“I never meant to. But I suppose intentions mean little.”

“I’m just glad I could bring you back.”

“You were right,” Kiyoshi said, “about all of us being monsters. One way or another, that’s what we turn into.”

“But you came back.”

“If it happens again, I don’t know that I’ll be able to, Kuroko. It was a miracle that I could this time.”

What he said was true. But even after today, Kuroko was willing to trust him.

“You said once that maybe you were still here for a reason.” Kuroko looked down at shoes, blinking back tears again. “Maybe that reason is me.”

Kiyoshi laughed a little.

“Kuroko, you don’t need me. That much is obvious to me now.”

“I’ll always need you.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. Kuroko turned red but he set his jaw. It was true and he wasn’t about to take it back.

“You mean that?” Kiyoshi asked, voice hushed. He reached out, fingers phasing through Kuroko’s leg. Kuroko nodded. “Then it won’t happen again. I can promise you that.”

“Good.”

The front door flung open.

“Tetsuya! I thought I heard your voice. What are you doing, sitting out here all alone?”

_I’m not alone._  Kuroko glanced at Kiyoshi with a faint smile before looking up at his mother.

“Just thinking.”

“Well, come on inside. I saved dinner for you.”

Kuroko followed after her into the house, glancing back once to see Kiyoshi staring up at the night sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 He woke up with a gasp, eyes flying open and seeing nothing but darkness pressing back in on him.

No. Almost nothing.

Kiyoshi was there, sitting at the end of his bed.

“Bad dream?” he asked softly, smile gentle and worried. Kuroko rubbed a hand over his face, sitting up slowly.

“Something like that.”

“About me.” Kuroko hesitated, which was answer enough. “It won’t happen again.”

“I know.”

“If I could take back what I did…”

“Kiyoshi, I know.”

They were both silent, there in the dark, the only light coming from Kiyoshi’s body.

“I just don’t want you to hate me,” he said softly, finally. “I couldn’t bear that.”

“I could never.” Kuroko pulled the blankets closer. “Not even if I wanted to.”

Kiyoshi’s smile turned crooked.

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

Kuroko could only laugh. Like Kiyoshi had once said, what else was there to do?

“That makes it twice now that you’ve saved me, Kuroko.”

“Twice?”

“The first time was when you moved here. If you hadn’t shown up, I’m not sure I could have held onto myself. I would have been lost. Another one of your monsters.”

Kuroko reached out to him on instinct, setting his hand down where Kiyoshi’s rested. The coolness of his form as his passed through his was a comfort.

_I think maybe you saved me, too,_ Kuroko wanted to say but couldn’t form the words.

 He patted the space next to him, laying back down. Kiyoshi slowly moved up the bed, doing his best approximation of laying down right beside him. Kuroko felt better, having him near.

“Do ghosts sleep?” he asked.

“We rest. It’s not quite the same. There are no dreams, just…a void.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“Not so lonely,” Kiyoshi said. “Not when I know I have you waiting on the other side.”

Kuroko closed his eyes, turning over on his side. He felt Kiyoshi shift closer, a cool presence at his back.

“Goodnight, Kiyoshi,” he whispered into the dark.

“Goodnight, Kuroko.”

Kuroko fell asleep with the comforting thought that no matter what he did or did not dream, Kiyoshi would be waiting there when he awoke. Waiting on the other side.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
